A Work Progressing

I’ve never really stopped to consider who the first author was. I suppose I always knew it was knowable—I just didn’t know it.Hmm. Knowable. That implies some things are unknowable. And that seems true enough. But now I’m wondering: what even is a fact? And are facts just stabilized opinions? Can a world run on opinion?

Worthy questions—but let me step back. Back to knowing and not knowing. Everything that can be known splits into two camps: the knowing of a thing, and the not knowing of it. Which camp we fall into depends entirely on the subject. Take, for instance, Christopher Columbus. Who knows he discovered America in 1492? Some people don’t. Some once knew and forgot. Some heard it but never registered it. Some never heard it at all.

And some know because they read it—in textbooks, biographies, or archives. They trust the source. We call those sources primary when they’re close to the original. I trust my sources. I fall into the camp that knows Columbus landed in the Americas on October 12, 1492. I believe that because experts who studied his original logbooks say so. Except—uh oh—those logbooks were given to Spanish royalty in 1493, and they’ve never been seen since.

But before they vanished, a copy was made—called the Barcelona Copy. Columbus carried that copy on future voyages, and it stayed with him until his death in 1506. It passed to his son Fernando, who used it to write a biography in 1538. In 1530, Bartolomé de las Casas used it to compose the Diario. That’s the earliest surviving text that describes the discovery. Uh oh again—the Barcelona Copy hasn’t been seen since 1584. Which means: all modern experts reference Las Casas’ Diario.

And all history teachers reference other teachers, who reference teachers, who reference that one source. This, apparently, is how we know things. Except… Columbus didn’t really discover America. The Vikings beat him by centuries. They landed in Nova Scotia. There’s literature and archaeological evidence for that. Some even suggest the Phoenicians—swept off course while rounding Africa—may have reached Central America, bringing pyramids and myth. That’s not confirmed, but it’s a theory.

So what do we know? Knowing is tenuous. And at any given time, the number of people who truly know something may be much smaller than we assume.

—

Today, I revisited a site I admire: The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature. It contains primary source translations from Sumer, often considered the first known civilization—because they left writing behind. I’ve studied cuneiform. I can recognize the letter shapes. But when those signs become words, I’m lost. I rely on scholars who can read it. And the good news? Multiple translations say basically the same thing. I trust their expertise. I accept their conclusions as… fact.

One of my most popular blog posts is a collection of Sumerian Proverbs. It draws readers every year. Today, I was browsing new translations when one line arrested me: “My king, something has been created that no one has created before.” That line stopped me. It was composed from 37 tablets found in Ur, written by a woman named Enheduanna, around 2350–2270 BC.

She was the daughter of Sargon of Akkad (2340–2284 BC)—not the one mentioned in Isaiah 20:1 (that’s Sargon II, 722–705 BC), but likely the original Šarru-kin, meaning “true king” or “king established.” Probably a title more than a name. Sargon married Taslultum and had five children: Manishtusu, Rimush, Enheduanna, Ibarum (Shu-Enlil), and Abaish-Takal.Each was given power. They stayed in power across generations. Rimush took the throne after Sargon and ruled for 9 years. Then Manishtusu, for 15. His son Naram-Sin ruled for 56 years. Enheduanna served them all—her father, her brothers, and her nephew. She was appointed High Priestess of Inanna and Nanna, exiled for a time, but reinstated.

She’s credited with standardizing temple hymns across the empire—a practical and theological unification. That book of hymns, the Sumerian Temple Hymns, may be what she meant when she wrote: “I have created something that no one has created before.” That line—written on tablets, duplicated across temples, preserved in translation—makes her the first known author in human history. And she didn’t just write for the job. She wrote for the heart.

Her other work, The Exaltation of Inanna, is a personal devotion—a song of awe and divine power. These are its first lines:

Lady of all the divine powers, resplendent light, righteous woman clothed in radiance, beloved of An and Uraš! Mistress of heaven, with the great diadem, who loves the good headdress befitting the office of en priestess, who has seized all seven of its divine powers! My lady, you are the guardian of the great divine powers!…

Today, I know a new thing. And it’s old. And it matters.

My intrepation

1. My friends are gone, my hair is gray, I ache in the places where I used to play- Leonard Cohen, Tower of Song

2. I wanna be safe, safer than I am now- Ilya Anderson, Personal

3. Second floor living without a yard- Feist, Mushaboom,

4. Beneath the stars came fallin’ on our heads, But they’re just old light, they’re just old light. Regina Specter, Samson

5. There are heroes in the seaweed, There are children in the morning. Leonard Cohen, Suzanne

6. Driving away from the wreck of the day, And the light’s always red in the rear-view. Anna Nalick, Wreck of the Day

7. Remember to let her into your heart, Then you can start to make it better. Beatles, Hey Jude

8. Six no-good men took her shine and more, Left her youth near Sausalito. Brooke Fraser, Jack Kerouac

9. Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I’m sixty-four? Beatles, When I’m Sixty-Four

10. It’s not even light out, Suddenly, suddenly, Oh, you’ve somewhere to be. Imogene Heap, The Moment I Said It

11. I got no plans I ain’t going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving. Tracy Chapman, Fast Car

12. And so you see I have come to doubt,?All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you. Paul Simon, Kathy’s Song

13. Jimmy as if you didn’t know by now, Let me tell you a thing or two
Everybody might have someone
But everyone falls in love with you…Shawn Colvin, The Facts About Jimmy

14. If you hear something late at night, Some kind of trouble, some kind of fight, Just don’t ask me what it was. Tori Amos, Luka

15. It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife. Alanis Morissette, Ironic

16. Look at the stars
Look how they shine for you
And all the things that you do. Coldplay, Yellow

Humans are remarkable. We have the ability to observe reality and document its existence by writing it down, freezing it for all time. This includes the things we see in the physical world, and also things in the emotional world.

This ability can also be seen as something unchecked. We can “document” things that don’t exist! Or another way of saying it, “the only evidence of existence is in the content of our words”.

Examples? Hmm… All of scripture tells us that God cannot lie. Yet I can write that “God lies”. I suppose that is proof that I am not God.

Another example is when I write, “that thing is entirely hopeless”. It is not true! Hopelessness is not loosed in the world! But we can create the concept, we can deceive others into thinking that it is hopeless, by using words.

The more that I ponder the concept, I see that hopelessness is a false reality entirely created by man, either in frozen words or live action. Hopelessness is not in nature, it is a pessimistic view of reality.

How often are reactions based upon things that don’t exist, or more accurately, only exist in the construction of our thoughts and words? Truly, we are challenged to use discernment far more often than should be necessary.

What can we do about this? We can make a conscious effort to not be a party of the creation of things that do not exist. Ha, if only I had a good list to remind me.

Okay, the first thing is to make your own list.

1. In every challenge there is a seed of hope and encouragement.

2. Is it true? Or is it an opinion?

3. What is the evidence?

4. Is this something that I can know, or must I trust others?

5. My desire for truth is greater than my ego.

6. I practice to know the difference of when I am open or when I am closed. My desire is to remain open.

7. Our public posture should be positive, there is enough natural negative to go around.

8. Even the immoral can choose good.

9. Do not wait to be perfect.

10. It’s not about me.

11. Learn to yield.

Such a simple word, and everything about it is complex.

The most famous of the Greek myths is the story of Pandora’s Box, or more accurately, Pandora’s Jar. (Jar was mistranslated to box). Hesiod is credited with telling the story of Pandora, who was given by Zeus to Epimetheus, the brother of Prometheus. It seems that Zeus was still miffed that Prometheus had given humanity the gift of fire. Zeus had reasoned that a vessel that Epimetheus had would be compromised by the curiosity of Pandora.

The Earth was pretty much a heavenly place. Now that they had fire, people were quite comfortable. All the evils of the world were safely locked away in the jar watched over by Epimetheus. Pandora changed all that. She removed the lid and in an instant everything escaped the jar, except hope. Pandora replaced the lid, keeping hope contained within.

my take on Rossetti’s Pandora

When you look at this story it doesn’t make sense that hope was living in the jar with a ton of evil. In fact, there was a ton of debate in Ancient Greece about this myth.

Hope is also translated as expectation. There was the belief that containing expectation meant that humanity still had access to it because is wasn’t flying around the world. It does not explain why hope was in the jar with evil.

Another suggestion was that it wasn’t expectation, it was deceptive expectation! Now that makes some sense. It wasn’t hope trapped in the jar, it was hopelessness. If all the evils were loose in the world, at least hopelessness wasn’t with them.

The Greeks also represented hope as a young woman named Elpis. Often the hope she represented was related to some kind of suffering. If we suffer, then at least we have hope. Thank you Elpis!

Where do we find hope? It isn’t lost, it isn’t locked away in a jar (that was hopelessness). So where is it?

Many find it within their family and friends. The practical expression of hope is solace. Your family and friends are great sources of solace. They know your story, they know your challenges. Words and expressions from your family and friends are a great source of comfort.

Hope can also be found in the printed word. Reading scripture is obviously a wonderful resource. It is a good idea to know those passages that are already familiar. There are thousands that speak directly to hope, even if the word isn’t directly mentioned. This is a particularly powerful tool because it can be accessed by choice.

Another great source of hope is found in the printed word of your own journals. You may have to bring discernment, but reading your past thoughts can be either supporting, or a message of encouragement. I have always believed that journaling is the most powerful tool for positive change. And in that there is hope!

1. Establish a family tradition of prayer aloud when hearing sirens. People gather hope when there is evidence that there is caring for others.

2. Establish a family tradition of publicly offering a blessing over meals, not loudly, but not under your breath. People gather hope when they see that believers surround them.

3. Be positive! Notice how much that you choose to see, or feel, the negative. The truth is yet to be reveled but you choose to think the negative for defensive reasons. Don’t over correct and risk being delusional, but don’t create a negative reality out of fear. Our hope is our refuge, and we choose it first.

4. I am a customer at a coffee shop not because it is the best coffee (it’s still pretty good!). I go there because I am guaranteed to receive multiple smiles. Not enough genuine smiling going on in public. I am encouraged and hopeful because of a genuine smile.

Summertime filing, sanding, and polishing.

Braided wire wrapped over leather, solid grip in wet circumstances.

Multitasking

We have all heard that the secret to life’s success is to do a lot of multitasking. Meaning, I suppose, that whatever you are doing, learn to do two or three things simultaneously, in order to get ahead and be successful. It doesn’t matter that there are studies that show that humans can’t multitask, and never have.

Certainly we can see and hear at the same time, and we can walk and breathe at the same time. But it doesn’t mean that we can process two different sets of data in order to create action. What we are very good at is “fast switching”.

I didn’t say that we can walk and chew gum at the same time, but we can, because both walking and chewing have certain aspects of “automatic mode” in terms of thinking. A drummer can beat out a rhythm with her left hand while steadily beating another rhythm with the right, but they are in automatic mode with thought controlling only the beginning and the end.

The classic teenage response is that “I can listen to music and study at the same thine.” This is only true if one action becomes automatic with no thought behind it. If the music becomes “background noise”, then perhaps study can occur. But if a lyric catches your ear, then suddenly you are pulled out of your text or essay, and you are listening and not studying.

I don’t know if any study of schizophrenia shows the ability to multitask, but at least the theory that it takes two minds to have two thoughts simultaneously is correct.

So, how fast is our “switching” ability? How many eggs can we juggle before the entire cartoon is destroyed?

Well, it depends. Most nerve signals travel at roughly .3 seconds from brain to extreme limb. However, most can blink an eye in .1 of a second. That’s three times faster, (however, brain and eye are considerably closer together). We are now only talking about the signal to move, not the assessment and calculations that are necessary to consider the action. All that takes additional time.

My wife and I enjoy playing cards together, generally with another couple. I should say that the enjoyment is not equally and consistently shared. It has evolved from playing games of clever strategy, with bidding, or calculating odds- to games of action and stress, as the situation is fast paced and in constant flux.

One particular game requires that you play a solitaire situation in front of you, turning three cards from the deck in order to see what can be played. That can be stressful if there is a time element in order to beat the other players. They have their own decks and their own game of solitaire. Add to that stress by playing the aces on piles in front of you along with all the other players, collectively.

I have my solitaire game in front of me but the aces piles are constantly changing. If I concentrate on my hand, looking to play cards, I am aware of the cards I need, except on the ace pike everyone else is playing and what is needed is in flux.

My neurons are firing, but often they are firing on old information. I’m looking for a two of clubs and the pile is now at the seven of clubs.

The hand must be faster, but the data behind the movement has to be even faster, and keep track of the changes.

What is curious to me is that often my wife is holding a card in her playing hand, waiting for me to recognize that I have a play, then tenths of a second after I play she puts hers down. Spooky! How does she know what I am going to play before I even turn my cards?

I can understand how someone is faster. Both are ready, the shot is fired and one person crosses the line first. But she crosses the finish line before I can tie my track shoes.

I used to play racquetball. When I played younger faster players I would win only if I played smarter. But what I f they are faster, smarter, and have psychic powers?

Multitasking? Apparently I can chew gum and walk. But I cannot rotate through a deck of cards three at a time, play solitaire, and watch as everyone keeps playing in the ace piles.

We call the game “Squeal”, maybe because of the joy of winning, maybe because of the sound of my losing.

I attended a jazz recital last night. Our music department generally has a performance to celebrate their student’s accomplishments. Our jazz quintet, “Jazzology”, was the featured performer. We also had a guest performer, Kallil Wilson, a great voice, with amazing runs.

Each of the performers had an opportunity to engage in some “scat” singing. Classic sound riffs, where the voice becomes an instrument that is played, as opposed to singing.

Ella Fitzgerald was famous for her scat performances, and helped to popularize the technique. As I listened last night I couldn’t help thinking about the connection between scat and sound poetry.

Both movements appeared in the early 1900s. Jazz came out of New Orleans and the southeast of the US. Sound poetry came from the cafes and cabarets in Europe frequented by the Dadaists. Dada had turned the art world upside down. The Salon controlled art world, was in turmoil, with art being defined by artists, and not professional critics.

It is said that Dada was named by randomly pointing a finger in the dictionary. Either that, or the first words of an infant.

In either case, Dada, broke the rules. Piet Mondrian graded the canvas, Marcel Duchamp “found art”, and declared it so!

In poetry, a German named Hugo Ball, wrote a poem in 1916, and declared it as part of a new genre of “sound poetry”. It was called “Karawane”. He performed it while wearing his “lobster suit”, certainly one of the first performance artists of the century.

If this is the first time you have heard of sound poetry, try thinking about the first time you experienced jazz with scat riffs.

What really helped me was Marie Osmond.

I can’t believe just wrote that, but there is a reason. She was a guest on some sort of variety television show that liked to prank famous people. A writer had thought that it would be funny to provide Marie with a poem to memorize with very little forewarning. A classic fear from any English lit class in high school. The additional fun was that straight-laced Marie, would be memorizing the classic Dada poem “Karawane”, words with no meaning.

The surprise was that Marie memorized in a few minutes, then delivered an amazing performance. The sound clip made it to the internet and has been one of most popular versions of Karawane. Later, she was asked to make another video to explain sound poetry and Hugo Ball. Click below

https://youtu.be/G69O7fvM3BI

Jazz, Dada, Hugo Ball, and don’t even get me started on Duchamp. It’s been a full weekend already.

I have now spent several hours watching YouTube murmurations. I am enthralled! I desperately want to experience this first hand. I can remember once, while my family fished from the levee on the Sacramento River, early in the morning, a dense black river of starlings going east, flying just yards above the water.

It was continuous and it must have taken an hour with very few gaps in the cloud of feathers. They didn’t break and create spirals in the sky, they were directed and linear. They had some place to go!

The funny thing was that later in the afternoon they came back, just as dense, and just as directed. Black feathers blotting out the sky!

I remember reading stories about herds of bison that took days crossing a particular river. Then, a few short years, and mountains of bones later, they were mostly gone. Murdered almost as successfully as the dodo. Hmm, man can change the environment, and he has!

Back to murmurations, I just can’t imagine how signals are communicated so quickly, and accurately. “Wait, you want me to follow you? Where are we going? What do you mean it’s partly up to me?” It’s beyond human understanding.

An instantaneous collective thought, maybe the patterns are three dimensional thoughts, written above the fields, murmurations disappearing as thoughts fade. Someday perhaps our recordings of these patterns may be deciphered, and we will understand the language of the flocks. Will they say something profound? Or will it be “I’m cold and hungry!”

I just used the WordPress feature of tracking the access of my blog posts. It isn’t that time consuming, haha, hardly a dozen eyeballs a week find my posts. Notice I didn’t say read and comment!

Anyway, over the last few years I’ve noticed that one post usually gets several hits per month. I wrote about Abraham traveling West from Ur. I wondered about the possible story telling around the fire. He was part of the foreign ruling culture of Ur, and he was probably literate in Sumerian, so I researched what I could about Sumerian Proverbs, thinking that they might be entertaining, and appropriate campfire content.

And apparently a lot of others are interested as well. It is still the most popular post on my blog.

I started this blog about four years ago, partly in respond to my retirement. I say partly because it is unclear which motive kick started my action. While I did teach about blogging and general web activity, I didn’t really have the time to do much personal work. I was on Facebook but mostly lurking and connecting with my students.

After retiring, many people asked about the free time that I had acquired. I admit I went through several “hobby” activities. They were fun, but I approached them with “project mode”, an intensity that looked to completion. I was “done” in a few weeks with each of them.

I was tired of listing the various activities that I had burned through, so I made up a story, “Well, I spend a certain amount of time pondering, and then writing posts to my blog.” Except that I wasn’t. So obviously I was convicted to make that a truth. I do ponder, especially when I have the time, and I did profess when I had a classroom. So why not actually write down some thoughts and keep them in a publicly accessible archive. I didn’t really think that one through. Part of me really wants to make some serious edits. Not everything pondered should see the light of day. Especially years later.

So again I looked at the history of my posts as I wondered about where I was and where I am now. One of the first posts was about Ivan Illich, a thinker, author and educator. On reading this I marveled on my undisciplined approach, wandering all over in big sweeping circles, barely keeping the focus, almost like some bird or fish murmurations. Where was I going?

Yep, that’s how I think, “thought murmurations” and who has the time to read through that?

The fear of missing out. I love the internet based short hands, but this one is a little different.

The general category of human fears has been well documented with little change over the years. The fear of snakes, spiders, heights, dark, broccoli, ….wait, the studies on broccoli are recent, and inconclusive. Basically it’s only been some recent media generated fears that have added to the list, like shark week or snakes on the plane.

So where did “the fear of missing out” come from? Clearly the net citizens resonant with this term, they type the acronym out fairly regularly. Sociologists have correctly labeled this as the Age of Information. That’s not only true because of the importance, but also because of the volume.

The amount of important information at your fingertips is multiplied a hundred times by the amount of useless data. Perhaps realizing that we don’t have adequate filters to select the important stuff from the unimportant, we have generated a new term, FOMO.

As with any fear, we see individuals respond in various ways to fear. We carefully look under seats and in loverheads for snakes, we keep a wary eye for shark fins. But how do we respond to FOMO?

I credit my wife with a new possibility. She thought that perhaps there is a “hoarding of experiences”, an over abundance of events in order to stave off the potential fear.

Hoarders of possessions are often addressing the fear of poverty. They don’t make a rational decision to invest in real estate or bonds, instead they collect multiple sugar bowls, or a half dozen ski parkas.

People with FOMO collect meetings, join book clubs, sign up with PTA, volunteer at church, attend political discussion groups, etc. None of these things are bad, and being active in several at a time should not cause alarm bells to ring. The question might arise when someone’s calendar is always full.

Are there days that are open? Is there down time when hobbies can allow relaxation? Or has even hobbies become somewhat manic?

So the question one should ask is “Have you become a HOE? A hoarder of experiences? Hmm, perhaps some further work is needed on the acronym.